Surviving as a Plagiarist in Another World

Truth is the most powerful force in literature.

That “truth” may be something deeply personal and private, something universal and common that transcends time, or simply an expression of journalistic accuracy.

Some people may find truth in childhood experiences and their current circumstances, others may find it in self-exploration and contemplation, and still others may find truth by actively engaging with the world and listening to its voices.

And.

From what I have seen─.

“Let’s write a book.”

In the story of Father Paolo, there was enough “truth” to be sublimated into literature.

Of course, one could argue that an essay is non-fiction, not literature, but if written in the form of a story, it becomes a novel, and if written as an informational piece, it becomes non-fiction.

“…I’m not sure. Are you saying that writing a book would be more effective in reaching people’s hearts than breaking down a wall?”

“After all, truth is not something that can be forced upon others. If there were no wall, people would close their eyes to avoid seeing something ugly. They would deceive themselves and justify discrimination and hatred. The wall that blocks truth is not the yellow brick wall, but the heart of the people.”

“……”

“Therefore, let’s use a method that moves the heart. If truth is something that cannot be hidden, wouldn’t it be better to choose the most beautiful way to reveal that truth?”

In the end, the solution I could offer was only one.

Literature.

As a reincarnator who couldn’t settle in any one world, a plagiarist who gained fame by copying others’ works, and a social misfit who had lost social skills due to excessive immersion in hobbies, the one thing I believed in was simple.

Literature may seem useless, but within that uselessness, it has the power to change people.

And the driving force of that “power” is precisely:

“Literature is the act of even turning discomfort and unease into nourishment. If the truth is uncomfortable, isn’t that the perfect material?”

It was truth.

Truth moves people’s hearts.

“If there is someone who cannot endure that discomfort and takes action, that would be fine too. Perhaps, as Father Paolo did, someone might rise up with a hammer to break down the wall. Or, conversely, there may be people who, unable to bear the discomfort, will try to make the wall higher. There might be others who will attach barbed wire to the wall and defend it with guns and knives.”

In the end, it was up to the people to judge.

I had no right to argue what was right or wrong, no wisdom to find a better solution, and though I might have had the power to take sides, I had no intention of using it.

“…What happens if the people who want to defend the wall win?”

“The existence of the wall itself will become meaningless.”

“Eh?”

“At the point where such a debate arises, the truth has already won. Once truth becomes scandalous, literature has fulfilled its role.”

“……”

“At that time, it would be perfectly fine for you to join the side of ‘those who want to break down the wall’ and continue the struggle.”

And most importantly.

I had no interest in anything that was not literature. Whether what was beyond the wall was an uncomfortable truth or a pleasant lie, it did not matter much to me.

That kind of debate was something philosophers could handle.

“First, let’s turn the existence beyond the wall into a scandal.”

In that sense, literature was such a kind way of revealing truth.

It always waits in the same place for readers to arrive, but it does not get angry if the readers do not read. Anyone who desires it can seek out literature, and what they take away from it is always different.

Some will criticize the work by pointing out its flaws, while others will praise the work by highlighting its merits.

Literature doesn’t force anything.

Just as truth does not complain about people’s lies, literature does not complain about people’s neglect.

“…I understand. However, I am not very familiar with publishing…”

“Naturally, I will help you with that part.”

Thus, a new publishing project began.

.

.

.

It took much longer than expected to complete the new “book.”

This was because Father Paolo had spent months convincing many people beyond the yellow wall. He had asked them to become “co-authors” of the book.

“This book should not belong to ‘me.’ It should belong to the people beyond the wall. Because what’s contained in this book is their lives.”

“There are many co-authors, then.”

Father Paolo had lived with them beyond the yellow wall for several months, listening to their stories.

The final manuscript was filled with the names of more than 100 people.

“Hmm, Father Paolo, are you aware that I run a foundation to support artists?”

“Of course.”

“Actually, the qualification to receive support from the foundation is simple. For writers, if they have at least one book published under their own name, they are recognized as ‘writers.'”

“Oh, in that case…”

“Yes. All the ‘writers’ listed here should be able to receive support. If someone is addicted to drugs, we will provide unlimited support for addiction treatment.”

“Ah!”

The Purple Magic Tower, famous for its fantasy magic, deals with various neurological and psychological phenomena occurring in the human brain.

It is also said that treatment for drug addiction is possible.

It would cost several dozen gold coins to treat one person, but… in my foundation, the budget was never a consideration. After the treatment, we would make sure to manage their surroundings and take post-treatment measures to prevent relapse.

“Thank you so much!”

“Helping writers is my role.”

“Uh, this might sound rude and superstitious, but could you be a prophet sent by the Lord to spread literature in this world…?”

“Eh?”

“As a monk, I have always believed that miracles are made by the people who believe in them. That’s why I have always tried to follow the principles and set an example. I disciplined myself to stay away from indulgence and pleasure. I believed that the true miracle was in striving to follow the footsteps of the Savior.”

“……”

“However, when I saw Father Homeros… you truly stood in a miracle.”

A miracle.

That word had been heard many times since my reincarnation in this world.

And.

My answer to that had always been the same.

“Well, I’m not sure what exactly a miracle is. But there’s one thing I do know.”

“…….”

“The manuscript in your hands, Father Paolo, is a miracle to me.”

Literature. Books. Reading.

That alone was my miracle.

It had been so until now.

And it would remain so forever.

[The People Beyond the Yellow Wall]

Thus.

The book The People Beyond the Yellow Wall by Father Paolo was published in the capital of the Empire.

.

.

.

The People Beyond the Yellow Wall did not garner much attention.

The primary reason was its sheer length of nearly 2,000 pages.

Although it featured a review written by Homeros and was actively promoted, sparking some interest, that was the extent of it.

Most people weren’t particularly inclined to spend money—almost ten times the cost of a typical novel—just to learn about the lives of the poor.

In other words, only a select few readers, who could invest in books without hesitation, took an interest in it.

And these ‘people who spared no expense on books’ were the ones who wielded true influence.

As a result, even the Imperial Assembly ended up discussing The Yellow Wall. Though the discussions did not go very deep.

“Hmm, it’s a really good book, but it didn’t sell as much as I expected. I think it’s because, being over 2,000 pages, the royalties and price were set too high…”

“Maybe it’s just too thick for people to bother reading?”

“Sion. Talk to the Foundation and have them purchase all the unsold copies and place them in libraries. Also, oh! Implement the public lending right system as a trial run.”

“What is this public lending right system?”

“Simply put, when libraries lend out books for free, authors technically lose out on royalties, right? This system would compensate the copyright costs through the Foundation. The more people borrow the books to read, the more income the author will receive.”

To address such issues, I introduced the public lending right system, which had been implemented in some future nations.

For now, it would only apply to libraries operated by the Foundation and artists registered with the Foundation… but even so, it was one of the most effective policies to increase both reading rates and publication rates.

And so, time passed once more.

“Ah, Father Paolo. What brings you here?”

“Well, a student from The Yellow Wall told me they wanted to attend Homer Academy. Would you mind meeting with the child? Oh, of course, I’m not asking you to accept them into the Academy outright.”

“Writers are always welcome.”

“But there is… one small issue.”

“An issue, you say?”

“The child has dyslexia.”

“…What?”

.

.

.

“You must be White, correct?”

“Ah! Hello! Homeros, sir… hehe. Thank you so much for meeting with me.”

The boy with white hair, an aspiring writer with dyslexia.

He greeted me with a bright smile. His mischievous, round eyes were so intelligent that he didn’t seem like someone who couldn’t read.

I had read about this child before.

He appeared in The People Beyond the Yellow Wall under the subtitle A Child Who Can’t Attend School.

“You’ve probably heard from Father Paolo… I can’t read. I can’t even attend the school you created, sir….”

“…I’ll have the Foundation establish a special school.”

“Ah, hehe. Thank you for your consideration.”

“So, you want to become a writer?”

“Yes! I can’t read, but… I can listen to and tell stories. Father Paolo wrote down my story, and when royalties came in, I even bought a storybook. The Little Prince.”

“Do you have someone who reads it to you?”

“My father! My dad… well, he’s missing his left arm and leg, but he’s a good person. He’s a bit lazy, but when I ask him to read me a storybook, he always grumbles but ends up reading it! Actually, when I was working on the book with Father Paolo, he kept telling me not to share every little detail. But now that royalties are coming in, I think he likes it.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. My dad said he’s planning to write a book himself and get it published. He said he’ll write anything, publish it, and personally get the artist grant… oh, should I not be saying this? Hehe. But he’s not a bad person, so please let it slide. He used to just lie around lethargically all day, but ever since he decided to publish a book, he’s been sitting at his desk, groaning and working hard to write one sentence at a time. Every day, he reads aloud the sentences he’s written, but honestly, I don’t think it’s very interesting.”

“…….”

“And lately, he’s been reading a lot, too. He said he doesn’t know anything, so writing is hard, and he needs to read a bit first. Most of the books he’s reading are ones written by you, Homeros. The Foundation provides them when we request.”

“…I see.”

“Yes! So, um, I wanted to say this.”

The boy with dyslexia, an aspiring writer.

With a smile brighter than anyone else’s, he bowed his head and said.

“Thank you. For giving my father hope. And… I want to become a writer like you, Homeros! Hehe.”

“…….”

Until now, I had thought that in order to advance literature, it was essential to first increase the number of readers.

All readers were potential writers, and so I believed that increasing the readership was the first priority. To put it simply, I had thought about it ‘rationally.’

“…I’ll assign you someone to assist you with reading.”

“Ah, that’s okay! I can just ask my dad to read to me! I can also look at picture books!”

But the world doesn’t always operate in a rational manner.

Sometimes, outcomes take precedence over processes. Occasionally, a bold and unconventional solution is needed to bypass all the steps.

“You’ll need someone to guide you if you plan to come to Homer Academy every day. Let’s call them an assistant and guide.”

“Huh?”

“You’re accepted, White.”

“…Ah! Thank you! Hehe. I’m so happy….”

If everyone became a writer, they would all become readers as well. Wasn’t it natural for someone who has written their own sentences to take an interest in others’ writing?

Readers becoming writers was a coincidence.

Writers becoming readers, however, was inevitable.

Therefore, in order to create a ‘literature-centered society,’ an environment where everyone could become a writer was essential.

“Sion.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Bring me the records of all the libraries operated by the Foundation and their collections… no, the records for all the libraries in the Empire.”

“Understood.”

A new realization had dawned.

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